


Nothing is True

by TheXGrayXLady



Category: Assassin's Creed, Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Assassin AU, F/M, Gen, Sort of AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheXGrayXLady/pseuds/TheXGrayXLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, that’s not how it sounds when you stab someone through the throat,” Cyrus said. </p><p>Will stared for a moment, then said, “I’m not even going to question how you know that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing is True

**Author's Note:**

> Never let me say something as a joke. Never let me have a joke or crack headcanon. I will invariably take it too far because I never learned to quit when I’m ahead. Cyrus jumped from too many tall things and survived for me not to make a Cyrus is actually an Assassin joke. And I don’t know when to stop. Also, could anybody else see Alice and Cyrus couples cosplaying Maria and Altair?

This was not what Cyrus expected when he was let out of the bottle. In fact, if anything could be described as the opposite of what Cyrus was expecting, it would be this. He was still less than sure of how he wound up joining the most conspicuous group of contract killers he’d ever met. He just knew that they appreciated the fact that he couldn’t die and he appreciated the freedom their leader allowed him. All she’d wished for was enough money to send her sister to school

The hood slipped off his head and he made no move to fix it. The cool night air tousled Cyrus’ hair as he perched atop the minaret. So far up, he was safe from prying eyes of either wandering guards or curious citizens. So far up, he allowed himself a moment’s respite.  

He breathed deeply, the clean, crisp air a welcome change from the stale air of the bottle. A miniature city spread out before him, bathed in moonlight, distant torches flickering like stars. If he didn’t look too closely, he could almost see the bazaar where Rafi worked, the tavern he treated like a second home, the garden where Taj liked to study medical books borrowed from his mentor. From up here, it almost looked like home.

Home was realms away, but he could pretend for just a moment. Yet he wasn’t up here to reminisce, he’d climbed up for reconnaissance. The streets were clear up until the guard towers before palace gates. He would have to climb up onto a roof near the low bit of the palace wall around the stables. From there, he could move unseen from the stables and up a guard tower. Then he would climb up and onto one of the gently sloping domes on the palace roof and up the tall tower to the highest room.

He tested the wrist blade as he watched the lights in the tower room flicker out. He flinched as the metal brushed the skin of his hand. Before this, his experience fighting was confined to bar brawls. In weeks, they’d taught him to be deadly with swords, daggers, throwing knives, and this peculiar mechanism. They were the most conspicuous group of contract killers he’d ever seen and he questioned whether or not they were even paid contract killers, but they did their job and they did it well.

He couldn’t disagree with his current mission. The city’s ruler was a violent despot and he was the only person with a chance of getting in and out alive. He viewed words as the most powerful weapon, but this man was beyond reason. He didn’t look forwards to what had to be done, but he would do it nonetheless. All that remained was to get into the palace before the midnight guard change.

Which meant he would have to get moving quickly. Thankfully, this city had a plethora of conveniently positioned hay carts. Why the hay carts were always at the base of the towers he thought it better not to question.

He put his hood back up and stood atop the spire. For a moment, he paused, getting one last look at the city. Then he spread his arms and jumped, the white cloak spreading like eagle’s wings as he fell.

**_X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X_ **

“You know, that’s not how it sounds when you stab someone through the throat,” Cyrus said, glancing at the TV from the kitchen.

If not for the fact that Alice was ludicrously good at multiplayer and he didn’t think he could live down another loss, Will would have put down his controller in whatever the opposite of surprise was.

Since meeting Cyrus, he’d seen him do just enough questionable things to think that perhaps he was not the Mr. Sunshine he’d initially thought. His preferred method of getting from Will’s second floor apartment to ground level was jumping over the railing. When Will took him and Alice shopping for normal clothes, the first thing he picked out was a white hoodie. Every now and then he’d make comments like these.

Will tried to stay focused on the game, but that sort of comment was rather unnerving. At least, that’s what he told himself when Alice executed a particularly brutal combo kill. Then he set down the controller and looked at the man in the kitchen. Cyrus looked perfectly innocent, like somebody who had no business knowing how it sounded when you shanked someone through the throat.

Will stared for a moment, then said, “I’m not even going to question how you know that.”

 


End file.
